Graviora Manent
by Tan-chan
Summary: Is it really possible for so many people to be linked to one place?  Kong Studios is a dangerous building...  Far more dangerous than the Gorillaz first realised, for now, the rightful heir has appeared, and the spirits are just dying to have her back...
1. Hello! My name is?

**Author's Note: **Ja ja, I decided to change some plotness and crud from a story I wrote a while back, but only just started posting on websites… I ended up disliking it. Intensely. That's the last time I write at 4 o'clock in the morning. Hopefully this will turn out much, much better. Once again, I have no clue what pairings will occur. Oh well. We shall see, I suppose. (Smiles) The other fiction was basically an RP me and a friend were in once upon a time… (She's too shy to post things or take credit, bless her :X MISS YOU GIRL!) This one is fundamentally just I and I alone. Damn my changing heart when it comes to fandoms. (Sighs) Well, here we go sweeties.

_Disclaimer – _The Gorillaz belong to Jamie Hewlett and whoever else owns them, ha. The song featured in this opening chapter is called 'Naraku no Hana' by Shimamiya Eiko.

I only own Frances and the plot. (For now… Mua ha ha…)

* * *

C'mon, let's forget that the future  
Will be smeared in blood again  
If the tepid wind winds in coils  
It's probably a sign 

---

Silk. Satin beneath small, dainty fingers. The texture of the cloth could have been the skin. The silk enveloped the frame of the body, as did the skin. Both were soft, pleasant to the touch, both were of worth and value. They were not alike. The silk slid uneasily, escaping through the hands grip as if it were water, cold and elusive. The skin remained, warm, comforting. There was no comparison, and the hands rejected the material, curling up into fists. Noises could be vaguely heard outside the cushioned prison; muffled voices, exclamatory, their tones nervous and high pitched. Were they talking about the precious one encased in the luxury? Maybe, maybe not. Shifting with a rustle, bringing up their knees, eyes opened dimly. It did little to help them understand the situation; but rather raise a foggy sort of panic up in their chest. It was dark. Touch alone served as the singular sense to provide a vision of the situation, and the hands shakily patted along the surface around them. Lying down… Four walls, a box, perhaps? The hands then traveled over the body they were attached to; exploring the folds and lace of the clothes that lay there. A dress, elaborate, patterns stitched across it in a dancing, swirling motion. It felt as though it were moving, even though it's owner was impeccably still.

A rustle of fabric, and her hands traced over her face. Smooth skin greeted her once more, thick eyelashes, pouted lips, slightly cracked from the breaths she had drawn in her sleep. She turned her attention to her hair, intertwining the curled strands around her thumbs, creating vivid patterns of her own, cobwebs stretching across the prison. It was a simple, yet ingenious activity that made her think despite herself, the cogs slowly creaking into life inside her mind. The questioning of the bizarre situation began, yet it wasn't panic she felt. Rather, she was curious. Sadistically curious.

Was she, perhaps, an expensive doll that was being delivered to a crazed collector, and this box was merely just a way of keeping her intact? Was she someone of high importance, being smuggled out of her country before a war began? Probably not, but it was nice to lose oneself in delusions of grandeur from time to time. Absorbed in her fantasies, she became still once more, attempting to shut out the muffled voices, which were beginning to fade. She didn't need their help. She would be fine, here in her case, oblivious to the world. Her temporarily sightless eyes slid shut once more, the overwhelming sense of tiredness claiming her body. Her questions could wait. She didn't have time to give anything her attention. It was too precious, and belonged to no one else; even herself. Lulling into a state of subconscious defence, she curled into a ball with difficultly, twisting her body to the side, like a crumpled puppet that had been shoved far too quickly into a drawer of some kind. In her almost catatonic state, she stared blandly at the backs of her eyelids, when something happened.

Something _actually_ happened.

It didn't feel like much at first, but there was definitely something. A slight bang, a curse, and suddenly, she was floating upon the silk. It felt as if it were a cloud swaying uncertainly beneath her, evaporating with short, shuddering sighs. At first, she was terrified she would fall straight through and tumble down through the sky. Was she _dead_? Biting down on her bottom lip told her otherwise, and she nursed the bleeding tissue with her tongue tenderly as the jerky movement continued. She attempted to take a more logical angle, and listening to the curses outside, made a vague guess.

She was being carried somewhere.

The grunt of _'This thing is bloody heavy' _revealed that. Thing?! That was rude. Blotting out the incessant chatter again, she awaited the movement when her world would touch down to the ground again, with growing, sulky impatience. A gentle pressure beneath her signaled the drop, and she instinctively covered her ears as she fell with a bang. Dully irritated by her carrier's rough handling, she groaned inaudibly at the throbbing of her stiff limbs. The excitement was over, and the cloud of peace settled down once more. She guessed that around five minutes had passed before she had begun to drift off to the land of nod, still in the same, twisted position, yet felt comfortable within herself.

---

Dash out, dash out  
From your far too sad destiny  
You're not the flower of hell  
At such a place  
Don't bloom, don't bloom  
You mustn't get caught

---

There was nothing better in the morning than waking up to find a bottle of lager next to your face. That, and having aspirin within arms reach. It was _genius_. 2D flailed about lamely as he groped for the precious bottle, being careful not to knock over the alcohol next to him. Squinting oddly, he managed to grasp his target in his left hand, before clumsily letting it slip through his long fingers. With a strangled noise of surprise, he tumbled straight off the bed with the covers wrapped around his legs, smacking into the carpeted cement floor with a dull thud.

"Oww…"

He groaned quietly, squinting. Now he'd lost his aspirin in the tangled mess of his limbs and the bed sheets, and worst of all, the tumble had caused his head to feel like it had just been used as a battering ram. Scrambling frantically and emitting zombie like-moans, he ended up further ensnaring himself, sighing with discontent.

Not once did it occur to him that if he actually let the sheet go, then it might solve the problem…

Wriggling himself across the floor like a drunken caterpillar, he managed to slither over to a large pile of painkillers, and dunked his face into the pile of pills. Snagging his bottom two teeth and top gum onto a capsule, he retreated with his prize, swaying before flopping down onto his side, mouth chomping down as a reflex…

The capsule exploded in his face, the white powder shooting up his nose and into his mouth, causing him to splutter and cry out in disgust.

"ARHH! THIS TASTES WELL 'ORRIBLE!"

He screamed (to no one in particular) and began to sneeze uncontrollably.

_THIS WAS THE WORST MORNING EVER._

…

Though he'd probably forget it by dinner.

---

The pieces of time flutter about soundlessly

---

_BANG. _A torrent of punches fell upon the helpless, reddened victim. A final kick and it was done. It exploded it a flurry of foam and fluff, bursting straight across the wooden floors, forming messy piles around Noodle's feet. Well… Maybe she did overdo it, a little… Letting out a small sigh, she scooped up the remnants of the punching bag and shoved them in her panda shaped bin with great difficultly, having to push them down with her bare foot. This was the third one this month… Sucking in a short breath, she brushed her fringe out of her eyes quickly, before placing her hands on her hips.

It was decidedly odd. Something had been bothering her recently, but she couldn't quite figure out what it was. She was jumpy- a rare occurrence for her- and the air felt musty, almost as if something were stirring in the building, something was getting excited. She didn't know what, but it was unnerving. She had never liked Kong Studios in the first place; the zombie outbreak that she had taken care of had definitely influenced her opinion, but it was still her home. Despite the bad karma that reeked from its walls, the decrepit building was where she belonged, and she refused to budge. She almost wanted to charge down into the bunker, katana in hand, and attempt to find the cause of the dark vibes, but she knew it would be a fruitless expedition. The studios were haunted, and would always be haunted.

Dusting down the front of her striped top, she crossed over to her door and slipped on her sandals. There was no point staying in her room in her current frame of mind- more things would end up broken, and she didn't want her poor game boy to be victimized.

She opened her door carefully, peering out into the corridor beyond. First, she looked to the right. The door was closed, as per usual. Was she expecting anything else anyway? Next, to the right. Everything appeared normal, but… What on _earth_ was outside Russel's room? Walking over to the foreign object placed upon the floor, Noodle crouched down to get a better view in the somewhat dim corridor. A black, polished box. It looked expensive, and was big- bigger than Noodle herself. It almost resembled a coffin, spread out onto the floor like that, and a sense of dread welled up in the Japanese guitarists chest. Why was it outside Russel's room?! Was he having another one of those _episodes_ again? A million questions swarmed through her head as she carefully stepped over the coffin to the door, rapping on it sharply.

"Russel-san?"

"Baby girl, is that you?" His usually calm voice came out in short, sharp tones. Something was definitely wrong.

"Hai… What is this outside your door?" She questioned bluntly. There was no point pussy footing around the situation, she supposed.

"… It came in the mail."

_Came in the mail?!_

"A coffin came in the mail for you, Russel-san?"

Silence. Perhaps that was a little bit too blunt of the axe princess. Sighing, she looked back to the omen on the floor. Russel most likely had dropped it in shock and barricaded himself in his room, thinking that the grim reaper had sent it or something like that.

"I'll take it from outside your door, okay?" Noodle spoke one more before gripping a golden handle present at the top of the case. Even with her formidable strength, it was a strain to drag it down to the lift, and even more effort to try and fit it in there. She ended up having to push it upright, so that it teetered unsteadily when the lift began to move. Clasping her arms around it in a sort of awkward hugging motion, she wobbled along with it, buffeted back and forth into the steel walls. That would probably bruise…

---

Who is gripping onto my hand?  
Who is stroking my hair?  
Just now, I was crying; within the sapling  
I feel a sign

Jump over, jump over  
From the gears of destiny  
You're not the flower of hell  
At such a place  
Don't scatter, don't scatter  
And don't leave behind a seed

If it sprouts, then karma will cycle again

---

'**IT'S DARE!!' **The familiar voice of Shaun boomed as Noodle reached the lobby, and not a moment too soon, for she felt ready to drop the box at any moment. Letting it fall out of the lift, she began to drag it once more, heading for…

"Uhh…"

The teenager froze in her tracks as a hideous noise emitted from her baggage, and she released the handle with a clatter, staring at it in shock. Maybe… Maybe someone had sent Russel a zombie, as a sick joke… A strange feeling rose up in Noodle as she gazed around for an object to use as a weapon. She would dispose of the threat before it had any chance to harm her 'family', if it _was_ a threat… Picking up a pipe that she found in a corner of the lobby (God knows how it got there) her spare hand slowly crept towards the coffin lid, ready to lift it aside…

"Wot've you got there, love?"

Upon hearing the rasping voice of Murdoc, Noodle sprang a foot into the air, pipe raised.

"GAH! M-Murdoc-san?!" She span around on her heel to face the bassist in all his boozehound glory. He reeked of alcohol, and she wrinkled her nose slightly as a reflex. Murdoc blinked slightly, scratching the back of his neck, clearly not bothered by her reaction, and the fact that she was brandishing a pipe.

"Someone die? 2D? Please tell me it's-"

"No, Russel-san got this in the mail, and I, umm, thought I'd look at it myself."

"Russel got a bloody coffin in the mail?! Let's 'ave a look…"

He leant over the object precariously, the tip of his inverted cross just touching the lid. After a quick observation, he chuckled.

"Good quality, this… Shall we take a look inside, then?"

Noodle tightened her grip on the pipe with both hands and nodded briefly, partly glad that Murdoc had showed up to open it instead of her. .

"Hai."

Just as he placed his nicotine hands upon a clasp on the coffin's side, a loud bang and shuffling was heard from the right hand corridor. Both heads turned instinctively, to see 2D stumbling through the lift, bucket stuck on his left foot, a dumbfounded expression on his features. Nothing new. The attention focused once again on the mysterious box, and 2D was ignored as he clattered over, bending slightly to bring his tall frame more to their level.

"Wot you doing?"

"Opening this, 2D-san?"

"Wot is it?"

"It's a coffin, dullard."

"Omigod! Did Russel die?! Isn't that coffin a bit too small for 'im or summfink?"

"No, he didn't. He got this in the mail. We're going to look inside it, because Russel-san is scared." Noodle nodded at her own summary, and the blue haired man squinted, scratching his chin.

"So, like… Wot's this, then?"

"I TOLD you already, faceache, it's a COF-"

"Not that!" 2D whined, bracing himself slightly for a hit. "That fing hangin' off the side!" He pointed one of his long, shaking fingers towards a small card dangling off one of the handles on the coffin. Murdoc snapped his hand around to rip it off bluntly, looking down his nose to attempt to read the ornate writing on it.

"… Noodle love, I can't see straight, you read it." As he was crouched down, the girl merely peered over his shoulder to see, and 2D squatted to use his other shoulder as a viewpoint.

"It looks like one o' those fings those guys down at KFC wear…" Surprisingly, 2D had hit the nail on the head with that comment. Just like the little nametags present on those ridiculously bright uniforms, it had an enthusiastic 'HELLO! My name is…' printed in bold letters at the top, a tacky presentation of self identification.

"Hello… My name is Frances… Please take good care of me, I'm low maintenance and only require, umm, feeding and watering everyday. I would also like a clean bed to sleep in, and possibly a toothbrush. Thank you, dear patron." Noodle trailed off.

"OH OH! IT'S A PUPPY!" 2D exclaimed excitedly, earning himself a slap across the head.

"Moron! Oh hell, I'll just open it and get it over with…" Murdoc grumbled, and both band members behind him tensed, letting out small, almost inaudible noises. Undoing the clasps, they watched with bated breath as the lid creaked obscurely, and was slowly lifted away, shoved roughly to one side. There was a small silence, before the greasy haired man shifted slightly, voice slightly gruffer than usual, unhidden glee present in his tone.

"Well… I, uhh… Think I'll take responsibility for this package, ahr har har…"

"_**NO.**_"

---

Dash out, dash out  
From your far too sad destiny  
You're not the flower of hell  
At such a place  
Don't bloom, don't bloom  
You mustn't get caught

The pieces of time flutter about soundlessly

* * *

**Author's Note: **Eh, well, here's the beginning of the revision… Fairly pleased with how this turned out, though I'm sorry for the ridiculously cheesy ending… XD I hope to continue this fanfic for a long time, so please review? (Bows) 


	2. Collectible

**Authors Note: **Hello once again any readers who stumble across this story. (Bows) I am back with another chapter fresh from the oven, and I hope you will enjoy it. 3 Please remember to review! Ja ne! (Peace sign)

---

This was certainly not what they had been expecting. All three people huddled around the coffin stared at its contents with mixed feelings. Noodle was reminded vaguely of her arrival in the FedEx crate, but this was different. More sinister. Teamed up with the card that came with the container, something was very wrong. Laying amongst the coffin's elaborate silk lining was a curled up figure, a girl. The only skin visible was upon her face, neck and hands, as she was wearing what appeared to be a several layered, long and laced Edwardian dress. There was so much material filling up the space that it was hard to see exactly what was coffin and what was human, especially with all the finely detailed patterns present upon the red parts of the dress. The sleeves were puffy at the top and billowed out at the ends , making her hands look tiny in comparison. She looked small and fragile. Petticoats were splayed across her bent legs, with a pair of small feet poking out of the bottom, fitted with shoes that were at least four inches high- strapped on platforms. Upon her head, a matching red bonnet was present, a grey ribbon holding it in place with a lazy bow beneath her chin.

Her face was heart shaped- not thin, but not fat either, and the colour of her skin was similar to that of a very pale peach. Her eyes were closed and outlined with dark lashes and rims, whether it was make up or the result of tiredness was impossible to tell, and there was a small swirl drawn beneath her left eye. Apart from that, her face was incredibly plain. Her hair is what stood out the most; it was the only thing present in the coffin that wasn't a violent or dark colour. It was pretty much the exact opposite; a soft, candyfloss pink. A little bit of fringe was present in the center of her forehead, but that rest either side had been secured with little silver slides. The rest of the hair protruding from the back of the bonnet was in tight, complex curls, ending just past the woman's shoulders. At first, 2D really did think it was candyfloss, and his stomach gurgled loudly despite himself. Murdoc was _confused_. Who the hell had sent a pretty girl to Russel, and NOT to himself?! Twats. Or perhaps he'd ordered her online through some sick agency- that would explain the strange card- and then chickened out… He'd have to get him to spill the website address. Noodle's brow was furrowed deep in thought. This girl reminded her of something… Something from when she was very small…

_That's it. _A doll. Noodle could distinctly remember her first toy she had received from Mr. Kyuzo… A small, soft bodied doll with a china face and hands, wearing a frilled dress and curls in her hair. He gotten it from Europe, apparently. _'She's dressed like she comes from the past, you see? Over here, we call that 'Gothic Lolita', and it's based on old English culture. It's popular with a lot of young girls. I thought you might like to have this; seeing as how you're always dressing up in so many different ways.' _A small pang of excitement sparked through the young teenager as these memories resurfaced. She had lost that doll when she had first arrived at Kong Studios… She'd cried for hours without knowing exactly why, and Russel had tried to console her but to no avail. Bizarre how she would remember that now.

It was Murdoc who moved first and recovered from the shock fastest, promptly hooking an arm around the girl's shoulders and hoisting her up so that she was in a sitting position. He snorted slightly and grinned.

"Well I'll be buggered… Who woulda thought that Russel was into this sort of thing…"

"Yeah Muds, I'm well shocked, I thought it was just you who liked, y'know… Dolls an' stuff…

"Shut up, you little wanker! … Besides, she's alive, not a doll."

"LIKE PINNOCHIO!?"

"…"

Murdoc decided to ignore the blue haired singer's comment, and mentally made a note to pound him later. Noodle helped drag her out of the eerie coffin, and Murdoc continued holding onto the girl's shoulders so that she didn't slump over. The Japanese teenager stared in wonder for a moment, before tapping her bottom lip in thought.

"I wonder if her name really is Frances…"

"Hmm…?" Came the swift reply, and Noodle nearly jumped out of her skin, eyes wide beneath her fringe. 'Frances' had moved her head slightly to look at her, with a tired, dizzy expression. Her eyes were very dark and deep, and Noodle felt herself pick up the pipe that had laid forgotten on the floor.

"Someone call me…?" 'Frances' voice was small and quiet, matching her appearance, and the Japanese girl lowered the pipe once more, calming down. Murdoc was grinning like a Cheshire cat, still gripping the girl's shoulders, and leant forward slightly, whispering in her ear.

"Welcome back to the world of the living, love."

The reaction was explosive. In one feral, sweeping movement, the mass of silk and lace sprang away from the Satanist with the force of a speeding bullet, smacking into the opposite wall. Disorientated, he felt her way up the wall and stood with a little difficultly, teetering on her platforms, waving a hand in front of her face.

"E-Eww…"

Apparently, the smell of Murdoc's breath had brought her to her senses with a bang, much to his disgruntlement and 2D's amusement. She turned mechanically, eyes wide and staring, still pressed flat against the wall, a deer in the headlights. After looking at each of the people in turn, her dark irises did a full scan of the lobby, apparently not liking what they saw, and she promptly cowered, arms held over her head.

"Aww Muds, you've gone and scared her shitless!" 2D stretched up from his crouched position and blinked as Noodle shifted forward slightly, holding out the card.

"A-Ano… Are you Frances?"

"…"

"Well, umm, you were mailed here, and, umm, we don't know why, so if you could tell us who you are then maybe-"

"Where is this?!"

"… Umm, this is Kong Studios… In Essex."

"… Essex?"

"Essex." There was a slight pause.

"ESSEX?!" Another explosive reaction. "WHY AM I NOT IN LONDON?! WHO ARE YOU?! WHY DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?! WHY AM I HERE?! WHY HAVE I GOT A THUMPING HEADACHE?!" Frances yelped, arms waving in a windmill fashion, rocking precariously on her high shoes. Noodle backed away slightly and looked at Murdoc and 2D, both of whom looked as perplexed as she felt. 2D more so.

"Umm… I am Noodle, Frances-san. And you… Came in the mail. In the coffin here." Awkward. Frances' attention snapped to the black shape in the centre of the floor and she stiffened for a moment. The cogs slowly creaked into life at the back of her brain as she came to a conclusion, a faraway look in her eyes.  
"Oh… Oh, they drugged me..."

"What?!"

"… Hmm?!"

"Drugged?"

"Yeah… I think." Frances added as an afterthought, folding her arms. "My head feels like it's full of fluff… I don't know…" She groaned. It looked like it was hurting her to think, and Noodle held up her hands in a soothing fashion, speaking quietly.

"It's alright… Umm… Well… My name is Noodle."

"Noodle?"

"Yes… And this is Murdoc, and 2D."

"Murdoc… 2D."

"Hai!" The Japanese girl beamed, bouncing slightly. The two men in question still seemed to be confused, and Frances slackened her posture slightly, managing a wobbly smile and a silly wave of her fingers.

"Erhm, hello."

"'IYA!" 2D replied almost immediately, accompanying it with a gap toothed grin. Frances looked ready to bolt again, but remained squashed up against the wall.

"W-Well, why don't we go into the kitchen so you can tell us why you're here, and, umm…?" Noodle paused as Murdoc brushed past her briskly, heading towards Frances, who now looked as though someone was running at her with a meat cleaver. Noodle couldn't blame her.

"S'alright, Noodle love, I told you, I'll take care of her… She can do all the explaining she wants in my Winnebago, Ahr har har…"

There was a small slam as Murdoc placed his hand against the wall, next to Frances' face, and leered lecherously. She looked like she was about to have a seizure at the gesture, and wrapped her hands around her head once more, squealing.

"NO THANK YOU!!"

"GAH! Murdoc-san, don't do that!"

"Why not? You know I'll pay extra special attention to her…"

"But you're well scary!"

"I'll be 'well scary' in a moment if you don't shut your trap, dullard!" As Murdoc turned to 2D, the pink haired woman saw her opening and thundered over to Noodle, flinging her arms around the smaller girl.

"I'M STAYING WITH YOU PLEASE OKAY THANKS."

"Wha-?"

---

After a brief interlude involving a small argument between the Bassist and the Guitarist, 2D and Frances watching nonchalantly from the sidelines, with similar ditzy expressions, Noodle had ushered everyone into the studio kitchen, running to the lift to fetch Russel. When she had returned, Murdoc had been throttling 2D, with Frances watching slack jawed from the side, flinching with every gagging breath the singer produced. Noodle had intervened with a swift karate chop to Murdoc's arms at the elbow, forcing him to relinquish the death grip, much to 2D's relief. Russel seemed restless and wide eyed, focused on nothing in particular.

"Oh, Russel-san, this is Frances-san, the, umm… Girl from the coffin." The Japanese girl gestured, still keeping Murdoc from further damaging the woozy 2D. Russel looked at Frances cautiously, and she stared back in return.

"… Why was I mailed to you?"

"… I have no idea."

"… Hello."

"… Hi."

"… I'm sorry if my arrival scared you."

"… That's alright."

"… I'm Frances."

"… Russel."

"Eh he he, sounds like Ruffle…" Frances giggled, shoulders moving with the short breaths.

"Hah, well, you're named after a nation that eats frogs…" Russel countered, and a moment of understanding was shared. Both nodded knowingly, and looked at the others. Noodle wiped a little bit of sweat from her brow and grinned.

"Phew! Well, now that everyone is here, it's question time!" Clapping her hands together and perching on the arm of the chair that Murdoc was sat on, she stared expectantly at Frances. 2D copied her, just because he didn't know what else to do, and Murdoc scowled from his seat, legs crossed. Being scolded by a 15 year old just didn't do anything for his cred…

"So, uhm, Frances-san, what can you tell us about the situation?"

"… Well… I don't really know, my memories all patchy… I'm sure they drugged me…"

"Who?"

"My colleagues… They were acting funny."

"Colleagues? Where do you work?"

"Yes… I work in London." Frances beamed at the thought.

"What do you do?"

"I am a designer… Of Clothes." She added hastily, eyes widening by a fraction. Noodle beamed.

"AH SUGOI! Did you design what you are wearing now?!"

Frances was now staring up at the ceiling. "… Yes." She mumbled.

"But I'm only wearing these because our model got sick… I had to step in at the last minute…"

"MODEL?!" Murdoc barked. If this girl had some connections… Oh, this would be lovely. Russel seemed to grasp what he was thinking about, and cleared his throat.

"Alright then Frances… So… Who were these colleagues that 'drugged you'?"

"Some of my assistants I think... They kept gossiping about something, but then bang, I was out like a light, and now I am here."

"So you don't know why you were sent here?" Russel raised an eyebrow in question.

"Not a clue. I don't even know where 'here' is, except that it's in Essex… And you are all complete strangers to me, so I am somewhat uncomfortable spewing information about myself…" More mumbling. Murdoc's mismatched eyes shrank slightly.

"You… Don't know us?"

"Well, I know your na-"

"Ever heard of the band Gorillaz?!" The bassist's eyes were practically popping now, and 2D shuffled away in alarm.

"No…"  
"WHAT?!"

"I'M SORRY!" The frilled girl squealed, throwing her arms up over her head once more when Murdoc propelled out of his chair, green teeth bared.

"THAT'S FUCKING INSANE! RUSSEL, GO FIRE THE ADVERTISERS!"

"… Calm down, man."

"IT'S MY FAULT! THE ONLY THING I LISTEN TO IS CLASSICAL!!" Frances yelled over them both, slightly red in the face. There was a small silence, and Noodle looked somewhat melancholy.

"… Only classical?"

"Yes… My parents didn't find any other music to be educational. It sort of stuck." The room seemed to freeze in place, as all four Gorillaz stopped completely. _Educational. _Music wasn't meant to be educational. For each of the four members, it had served as their purpose, as a way of freedom, a way of life, and yet there was someone sat before them that hadn't experienced it the same way they had. It was a strange feeling.

"D-Did I say something wrong?!" Frances sucked on her bottom lip, eyes huge.

"… Ah, no, we're just a little surprised…" Noodle blinked sullenly. "How… How old are you, Frances-san?"

"23."

That did it. 23 years with only _educational _music.

"Well then, you can stay here, hai." Noodle nodded to herself, and before anyone could protest, produced the card that had been attached to the coffin, flipping the laminated sheet between her fore and middle fingers. "You don't know what really happened and why you are here, yes? And I've figured out something. You were mailed to Russel because he is the most responsible one, and someone sent you here with the intention of you staying here. That means… That you will be staying here." The teenager concluded proudly, bowing slightly. Russel blinked and nodded slightly, impressed by her evaluation powers, whereas Murdoc's scowl darkened. 2D's brain appeared to be smoking, and Frances blinked very slowly.

"… I beg your pudding?"

Noodle bounced over to the confused woman and wrapped her arms around her middle affectionately. She really was like a doll, and Noodle was more than happy to accept her into her collection. Clinging like a small, Japanese limpet, she began wobbling towards the door, tugging Frances with her, ignoring Murdoc's protesting entirely. 2D was watching with interest, black eyes deep, apparently in some kind of thought; whatever kind of thought was possible for him.

"Oyasumi minna-san!" Noodle yelled happily, before slamming the door shut behind her, Frances in tow.

"… Oi ah sumo?!"

---

**Authors Note: **Sorry that this chapter was slightly boring, but I hope you liked it anyways. , STAY TUNED!


	3. Stupidity Breeds

**Authors Note: **Yai! Another fav! (Happy dance time) And yes, I do update uncannily fast, don't I? I suppose I'm just very bored… You see, I've been ill for about a week, and am stuck doing pretty much nothing. I'm happy just tapping away on the laptop for now, but don't expect so many swift updates in the future, m'kay? But for now, feel free to take advantage, oh ho ho. XD ONWARDS CHAPS!

---

"Are you sure you are comfortable down there?

"Yes, it's really not bad, this silk is good quality stuff you know…"

There was a slight pause as Noodle retracted her neck slightly from peering over her white sheeted bed. They had spent hours talking in general, Noodle demonstrating her skills on the N64. She had rapidly changed into her pyjamas, excited at the prospect of a new friend sleeping over, but unfortunately, had no idea whereabouts the older woman would go. It had taken a lot of persuasion upon Frances' part to be able to reassure Noodle that she didn't mind sleeping in the coffin, and even more persuasion for the Japanese girl to let the damn thing in the room. She had conceded, however, and now didn't really feel bad about the decision at all. Noodle's clothes obviously didn't fit the pink haired woman, and she merely remained in her elaborate dress, laying back in her packaging. That's exactly what it looked like, packaging. With her eyes shut and her hands clasped in front of her, Frances became the doll once more. She was an antique doll in her original box.

Noodle peered over her bed again, lying flat against the pillowed surface. She was too full of energy to sleep yet.

"Frances-san?" Her voice was tentative, happy.

"… Yea-huh…" In contrast, Frances sounded like the walking dead, and kept her eyes shut.

"Tomorrow, would you like to listen to some songs I wrote?!"

"Sure…"

"… Are you sure that you're sure that you are comfortable?"

"Yes, Noodle…"

"Lights off now?"

"Alright…"

With two sharp claps of Noodle's hands, the Japanese style lanterns around the wooden room fizzled out, enshrouding it in darkness. The axe princess sighed and flopped back the other way on her bed, wriggling beneath the covers. Perhaps if she cleared her mind, she'd be able to sleep better… Zen… That would do the trick. Rolling over onto her side, hair spreading out messily across her pillow, she closed her eyes and switched moods entirely, drifting off to the land of nod in a heartbeat.

Frances waited patiently, laced fingers twitching. She listened closely to the sound of Noodle's steady breathing, and soon felt undeniably tired herself, head swimming. Apparently, the drugs were still having a slight effect on her. Willing herself to stay away, she fumbled around blindly in the coffin and found her target. Retrieving her white gloves from the folds and securing them at the wrists, she sat up with aching slowness, nearly swearing at the rustling of the many layers of fabric she was wearing. Brushing a few of her curls from her face, she crinkled her way up to her feet, eyes attempting to get used to the dark. Tiptoeing over the threshold of the coffin, she padded across the floor to the crack of light that was presumably the door. Feeling her way around with her feet, taking great care not to step upon any of the oddities present on the floorboards, she jumped slightly when she felt a bag of crisps crunch beneath her.

Instinctively she froze, listening, and Noodle's steady breathing continued. With a relieved sigh, she grasped the door handle and tugged slowly, backing up with it as it opened. With the little amount of light that spilled into the room, she managed to locate her platforms and slipped out, closing the door gently behind her. Strapping on her shoes, her height increased and she gazed around the eerie corridor, frowning. It was darker than she had first thought; thought lighter than Noodle's room thanks to the windows. She wasn't really sure what she was planning to do, but she didn't feel comfortable going to sleep just yet. This building felt terribly ominous to her, and she was itching to explore. Listening to the lovely Essex rain outside, she traipsed down the corridor in what she presumed was the correct direction, platforms thudding into the floor, the noise echoing around her, and entered the 1st floor lobby.

_It's comin' up, It's comin' up, it's comin' up… _Frances stared blankly at the lift doors as she waited, brow furrowed. It was probably one of the strangest things she'd ever heard; couldn't these people just settle for a simple 'ding' or something? Rubbing her arms subconsciously, she shuffled on the spot as the chant continued, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. It felt as if there were something approaching, and she had the strangest feeling she was being observed…

_It's DARE!_

At the final exclamation, Frances gazed up brightly as the doors opened, like a puppy being allowed to enter the warm confines of a house after being in the rain. She looked up expectantly when they fully parted and froze, looking directly into a pair of black holes that were apparently eyes.

"**AIIEEEE!**"

"**AAAAHHHHHHH!**"

---

2D nearly shat himself.

He'd only gone upstairs to retrieve his special edition of 'Dawn of the Dead' from the Russel's room, since had borrowed it two days ago to extract a few sound clips for a track. He had been given special permission to go into the room to retrieve it; _from the right beside table. _Russel had taken special care to drill the message into 2D's brain, for the first time he hadn't been listening, the second he was blatantly confused, and the third time, he forgotten. Thus, the milky eyed man had spent the best part of an hour ranting the instructions into the lanky one's ear, also adding; 'DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING. GET THE DVD, AND GET OUT.' 2D had eventually registered it, and had happily gone into lift, daydreaming. Now, as he stared at the screaming, walking doll before him, his mind went completely blank, and he automatically yelped in a high pitched tone himself. It took him a moment to compose himself and identify that the woman before him wasn't a threat, but he continued being loud anyway.

"I'M SORRY SO PLEASE STOP SCREAMIN'!"

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE A GHOST!" Frances bawled, wobbling dangerously. 2D panicked, not sure how to react, and placed a hand on her head to steady her.

"I'M NOT!"

"… Alright then." Bluntly, Frances calmed, looking extremely placid, speaking from beneath the hand. 2D cautiously removed it, blinking in confusion, staring abstractly.

"… Err, umm…" Why the hell was he here again? Frances stared back with an equally blank look. Why the hell was she here again?

"… Wot was your name again?"

"… Frances. What was yours?"

"St- … 2D."

"STD?!"

"No, 2D."

"Oh."

The staring continued.  
"I fink I need the loo now."

"Me too. Where is it?"

"Down…"

"Stairs?"

"Nah, don' think we 'av stairs, best take the lift."

"Okay." The broken conversation discontinued, and both tall man and short woman shuffled into the small space, watching the doors shut complacently. 2D was chewing the inside of his cheek slightly as he pressed the button to go down to the ground floor, feeling as if he'd forgotten something. Frances honestly didn't know what the hell she was doing, but felt ten times better with someone near her, even if he was practically a stranger.

"What do you do in the band, then?"

"Sing 'n stuff."

"OH, soprano or baritone or what?" Frances chirped, thinking of the opera she was so accustomed to fondly. 2D was now staring at her instead of the wall, head throbbing.

"… I just sing…?"

"Can I hear sometime?"

"… Yeah, okay, I'll be like, doing some recordin' an' stuff tomorrow." He perked up slightly, glad that it was a topic he could relate, and gave her a gap toothed grin.

"Thanks!" She returned the grin and the lift halted with a creak, signalling their arrival. 2D took a step out and blinked in the dark, as he felt a tug on the back of his t-shirt. Confused, he continued walking, still feeling the tugging on his back, but ignored it, assuming it was his imagination. In reality, Frances was gripping the material tightly, using him as a sort of ditzy guide to the toilets, as she had no clue where they were herself, and was still vaguely shaken up. They stumbled through the lobby awkwardly, through the next corridor, and into the disgusting tiled room. 2D jumped slightly when a laced shot past him and into cubicle two, before he figured out what it was, shrugged and headed into cubicle three, disdainfully rubbing the wet toilet seat with a wad of tissue before lifting it up. He felt a bit weird, using the same bathroom with a girl he didn't know at the same time, but that feeling disappeared quickly as he unzipped, whistling 'Clint Eastwood'. The high pitched noise slid around the tiles in a melancholy rhythm, the only sound that was heard for a moment, until someone whistled back. 2D jumped and missed the toilet, giving the wall behind it a new coat by mistake, and blushed furiously, re-zipping his jeans promptly.

The lights flickered as he stuck his blue haired head out of the cubicle door, looking around. Cubicle two was silent. In fact, Frances wasn't even in it, but rather, she was standing outside of it, looking puzzled.

"Uhh… It's overflowing…"

"Aww, no way!"  
2D sighed and ran his fingers through his hair as an almighty stench drifted around the room. Clint Eastwood was whistled once more.

"2D, what is this song?"

"One o' ours."

"… You're a good whistler."

"… I'm no' whistlin'."

There was a slight pause and a cackle, of which was emitted from neither person in the bathroom. Turning their gaze to the mirrors running along the opposite wall, both singer and doll stared, transfixed. Everything seemed ordinary-ish. Sort of. But they couldn't quite tell what that black thing moving in the reflections of their blank faces, or why it appeared to be twittering a Gorillaz hit. Through the dust and dirt upon the glass, the silhouette of a young boy seemed to flit across, doing a bizarre, awkward dance. It was like watching someone perform a trick behind a screen, an exciting, yet strange display of skill. The silhouette was bending far beyond human physics, and even squinting help it look human. In one, sweeping, graceful movement, it seemed to become 3D and drift out of it's reflective prison, solidifying somewhat and moulding into the form of a young boy with translucent, perfect skin, with eyes resembling bleached ping pong balls. Probably his most striking feature, and the one that prevented the two from examining him anymore, was his complete lack of legs. In their place was a spectral see-through tail, which curled a few centimetres from the floor, fluttering despite the obvious lack of wind in the Kong toilets. He grinned.

"Hey hey, c'mon, I love that song, keep whistlin' with me!"

It was impossible to tell who moved fastest. 2D had seen plenty of freaky shit in the studios, but like hell he was going to jam with a toilet ghost. As for Frances… No comment.

Both streaked out of the room with the speed of a pair of leopards, 2D's converse slapping against the lino floor, Frances' platforms clumping noisily. It was odd how one so tall could produce so little noise, where one so tiny sounded like an elephant trying to do the Macarena. Bursting out into the corridor, they both yelled incoherently and ran to the nearest source of light; the carpark. Sprinting across the concrete, 2D began running straight towards the parked Winnebago, from which Black Sabbath was blasting out in all it's glory. Murdoc wasn't exactly a source of comfort, and 2D would most likely get punched just for stepping into the cesspit of a wagon, but it was better than staying outside. Focusing on the thumping bass that matched his headache, he paused as a loud snap broke the beat, and his train of inconsistent, garbled thought.

He turned his blue head slowly to look behind him, stomach leaping into his throat. The heel of Frances' right platform had snapped clean off from the vigorous activity, and she was face down upon the concrete, unmoving, a huge mass of red amongst the grey. At first, 2D had thought she was just a huge blood splatter, and upon discovering that she was still whole, flew into a panic, running back across the gravel.

"OMIGOD, OMIGOD, THE CARPARK KILLED 'ER!"

Doing a little dance on the spot, 2D shook his hands about restlessly as he searched his inactive brain for answers. Hesitating to move her, he instead fled back to the Winnebago and hammered on the door.

"MUDS! MUUUUUDS!"

"SHOVE OFF YOU LITTLE FAGGOT!" Came the rough reply, yet 2D continued to howl and batter the already crumpled door.

"MUUUUDS!"

"WHAT WHAT WHAT?!" The shirtless Satanist exploded, ripping the door nearly off it's hinges, glaring with bloodshot eyes at the flinching Stu Pot.

"AH! W-Well… It was like… There woz a ghost in th' bog an' we got scared an' ran out an' she fell an' now she's not movin' an' I DIDN' DO ANYFINK I JUS' DUNNO AND HEEELP!" 2D all but squealed, scrambling out of Murdoc's way as he strode out of his rust bucket of a home. He stopped at the edge of the dressed mess on the floor, 2D twitching behind him, gnawing on his nails. Sighing darkly, Murdoc bent down and rolled Frances over.

"You stupid twat, she's fine, probably just got the wind knocked out of her…"

"Oh?!" 2D sniffed slightly, surprised at the new enlightenment.

"She'll come round when she feels like… Go be slightly useful and get a first aid kit or somethin'…"  
"OKAY!" 2D saluted awkwardly, spinning around on his spindly legs and raced back into the building, all traces of fear disappearing into the depths of his memory. Murdoc waited impatiently for him to disappear from view, before slinging Frances over his left shoulder, grinning wolfishly.

"Alright then love… I suppose I should take you back up to Noodle's room, shouldn't I…" Giving the unconscious woman a swift slap on her cushioned bum, he snickered, feet leading him straight back towards his Winne.

"… But that would be wasteful."

---

**Authors Note: **Well, this chapter felt like one big spoof, didn't it?! XD I can't resist a bit of humour… And dude, small (badly done XD) cliffie for you to chew on. Chew well or you'll choke. D: Oh, and the toilet ghost has significance, you'll see him lots later on… Sorry that the pace is slow at the moment, but it'll pick up very soon... And before I forget, check the homepage on my profile to head over to my Deviantart, I have a few pictures on there that apply to this fic. But only if you want to. XD


	4. GREETINGS!

---

2D searched around blindly. Someone had moved the damn first aid kit; and he should know, since he was probably the one who used it the most often, thanks to Murdoc. He had scanned the entire bottom floor, all the usual places, all the nooks and crannies he could think of, and still nothing. As his places to look were shrinking, his guilt was piling on rapidly, and blatantly refused to head into the toilets, thanks to his earlier experience. Scratching his head, he stared out of a window into the night, watching the zombies swarm. _Zombies… _

"AH!"

Almost at once, Stu-Pot ran straight to the lift and headed to Russel's room, feeling pleased with himself. Rushing to the door of the drummer, he listened carefully. Apparently, Russel was in there. 2D rapped upon the door happily, bobbing up and down on the spot in anticipation. A click and a creak, and the peeved face of Russel appeared, looking vexed. Holding out a thick arm, he tapped 2D sharply on the nose with a DVD case.

"Figured you'd rememba' eventually. Here's your DVD, D."

"Fanks Russ, you get wot you need?" The bluenette beamed, taking the zombie movie from in front of his nose and clutching it to his chest.

"Yeah, I'll have the clips set up on a few tapes for tomorrow. Now go get some sleep, man. You know what you were like yesterday."

"Awright. … Oh, and Russ, you know where the first aid kit is, coz someone's moved it or summfink…" 2D trailed off when Russel slammed his hands down on his shoulders to stop him bobbing.

"Stop jumpin', you're makin' me feel sick… And I don't know where the kit is, sorry."

2D promptly ceased his feverish movements and looked put out, brow furrowing.

"… Awright then… Fanks anyway."

"Welcome." With that, Russel slammed the door shut, leaving 2D to reunite with Dawn of the Dead. He practically skipped along the hallway, racking his brains once more for any locations he may not of checked… There was sure to be plenty. Unfazed by the two ghost twins that roamed past him, he went on the hunt once again.

---

_Thunk._

"OWW! SWEET SATAN, WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WAS THAT?!"

Murdoc bellowed, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand. He glared accusingly around the car park, and nothing stared back at him. Looking down, he saw a crumpled beer can next to his feet; the culprit. Kicking it away sharply, he muttered under his breath and stepped up into his Winnebago.

_Thunk._

"AGAIN?!" The Satanist roared, green teeth bared in a snarl, anger focused on the crumpled bit of metal on the floor once again.

"Awright, whoever keeps throwing trash at me had better come out, I'm going to knock your teeth down your fucking throat…" He grumbled the last part of the sentence to himself, and almost at once, a head popped around the side of his Winnebago sheepishly. _Looks like a kid… How the hell did a kid get in here?! Goddamn brat… And it's an emo… _Murdoc thought wryly to himself, noticing the floppy fringe hanging over the boy's gaunt face.

"Well?! Don't be a fucking pansy, come out!" He barked, and the boy gently eased himself into view. Murdoc wasn't surprised in the least to see the complete absence of legs on the boy's body; there were plenty of ghosts in Kong, and this one was about as threatening as a kitten with a water bomb.

"Right, now, what the hell do you want?! Go haunt faceache or something… I'm a little… Busy, ahr har har…" Murdoc gestured to the unconscious Frances, and the ghost's white eyes narrowed.

"… Actually, I'd like you to give her to me, if you don't mind." His voice was hollow and thin, like he was speaking through a metal pipe.

"On yer bike, mate."

"Okay then, let me rephrase…" The boy paused, and used his one arm to hold up what appeared to be a heavy duty cinder block. "Put her down, and I don't smash up your 'home' with this… And possibly you in the process."

"Ha, I'd like to see you- WAIT WAIT!" The bassist barked, as the block was lobbed at the side of his prized possession, crashing into the metal. The Winnebago rocked dangerously, and as the block fell, a wonderful dent appeared in it's place. Appalled, Murdoc dumped Frances on the floor for a moment, to have a good go at this ghostly little fag.

"OI!! YOU LITTLE FAGGOT, I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS!!" The boy sniggered in reply.

"I'd like to see you try, I bet you're a crap exorcist. Hear you're good at summoning though… I look forward to playing with you, I get bored!" And with that, Murdoc felt something cold slide past him and back again, like thick, clumsy and ultimately freezing waves. Shivering despite himself, he scowled darkly when he noticed a flurry of red shoot past him. _Sneaky little bastard…_

"Oh… You're definitely on my list, sunshine…" The green skinned man leant against the doorframe as the ghost boy came into view once more, dragging Frances along the floor with as much care as he could muster.

"Bring it on, **old man**." The metallic voice snickered, retreating through the open door back into the studios. There was a loud clatter and a bang as Murdoc slammed his Winnebago door, presumably to gather up some candles and whatever else would be necessary to reap his vengeance upon the ghost. He wouldn't go down without a bloody good fight, and the ghost boy was slightly apprehensive. He'd watched the Gorillaz for years now… How they behaved, when they ate, how often they slept… And Murdoc was the one he definitely didn't want against him, but the wellbeing of Frances came before his own.

He was dead, after all.

Struggling to drag her into the lobby, he felt his strength for the night begin to ebb away. Being translucent and most definitely not solid made it difficult to carry unconscious girls and lob beer cans at 40 year olds, so he had to specifically store up some energy for this little venture.

He probably wouldn't be able to appear again for a night or so, but it was worth it. Turning her over by grabbing mounds of her dress and pulling, he sighed.

"Can't believe you slept through all that bastard's yelling… You're definitely one of us. Oh well. G'night, Frankie." With that final word, he patted her curls proudly and soared off into the nearest wall, disappearing for the rest of the night.

---

Noodle was in a bad mood. Noodle was in a tremendously huge bad mood. Noodle felt ready to explode in a cloud of frustration. She had awoken groggily at 6 am, and bid good morning to her new roommate, to receive no reply. Upon discovering that Frances was no longer in her 'box', the Japanese girl had washed and dressed whilst trying to calm down, before running all across the 1st floor to the kitchen, the dark aura cloud drifting along behind her. If Murdoc had been in her room, then… She spent an hour or so doing laps, anger spilling out of her like a steaming kettle. Returning to her zen state, she took a deep breath. Breakfast time.

Opening the kitchen door, she stepped in gracefully, skirt rippling slightly. She blinked slightly at the scene before her. Russel was sat at the table, wearing his favourite baseball cap, and digging into a full English breakfast… Sausages, bacon, beans, eggs on toast, even mushrooms… Noodle's stomach growled quietly, and she rubbed it slightly, blinking from beneath her fringe.

"Oh! Baby girl, you're awake!" The milky eyed drummer beamed in her direction, and she returned it with a grin.

"Hai… I didn't know you could make breakfasts like this, Russel-san…"

"I didn't, Noodle. Frankie did."

"Frankie?!" The axe princess echoed obscurely, looking across to the cooker. There, bent over the oven, was the doll like woman, small hands dwarfed by a pair of oven mitts.

"AH! Noodle, you want some?"

"F-Frances-san! Where were you?!" Noodle cried, rushing over to her, looking up at her face. Odd… She seemed shorter for some reason, and wasn't wearing her bonnet.

"I went exploring, but I fell because my platform broke and then I hit my head… Passed out for a while…"

"I found her in the lobby on the floor-" Russel paused to chew his bacon. "Early morn. She was blabbering abou' ghosts and God knows what… So I gave her a shake and a glass o' water, and she was good as new."

"Yes, Russel is very kind." Frances beamed. Noodle smiled to herself and nodded.

"Do you want breakfast too, Noodle?"

"HAI!" Came the ecstatic yell, and Noodle plonked down next to Russel, legs swinging back and forth. They began to converse about the newest track they were planning to record, and Frances listened in with a blank face, dark eyes wide and confused. She tried in vain to understand what the hell they were talking about, but ended up scooping a kilogram of beans onto Noodle's plate whilst trying to. Hastily correcting her mistake, she put the full plate down in front of the Japanese girl, who clapped her hands together and muttered 'itadakimasu'. Frances herself took a seat opposite the two, kicking off the fluffy pink slippers Russel had lent her.

Their chatter faded to a low hum as her head lolled forward slightly. She was exhausted. She began to tip forward slightly, eyes drifting shut. Yes, a nice sleep… That would do…

"G'morning love…" The rasping voice was so close to Frances' ear that it became the only thing she could coherently hear, but the thing that really woke her up was the presence of two foreign hands on her chest. Murdoc had slipped into the kitchen quietly, grinning like a sly fox ready to pounce on an unsuspecting rabbit, and after leaning over Frances precariously, had, well…

"… Is this how you say good morning to everyone?" The pink haired woman questioned, looking down at the hands in confusion. She didn't seem offended in the slightest, or embarrassed, just baffled. This was enough to make Noodle and Russel gawp mindlessly. The latter was the first to react.

"MURDOC. GET OFF HER. NOW."

"Alright alright, though she doesn't seem to mind…" The bassist chuckled before sauntering over to the cupboard, releasing Frances in the process.

"Are you alright, Frances-san?!" Noodle was leaning over the table, glaring at Murdoc furiously.

"Yes, I am fine?" The doll woman blinked. This people had a funny way of going about things… Was that really the proper way to say hello to someone?

"Wot's that smell?" The wobbly voice of 2D wafted in as he peered round the door, sniffing tentatively. _Ah. _Before anyone could open their mouth to greet the singer, Frances shot to her feet and padded over to him. Without her platforms, she looked absolutely tiny, and stretched out her hands, placing them on his chest.

"G'MORNING LOVE!" She yelled happily, looking proud of herself. If she had a tail, it would be wagging a mile a minute. There was a long, awkward silence, until Murdoc crippled over one of the kitchen countertops, howling with laughter. Sweet Satan, he wasn't expecting her to be _that_ innocent… Russel looked horrified, but Noodle couldn't help but giggle slightly. 2D stared down at Frances' eager face, dumbfounded, before his brain registered once thing. All at once, he wrapped his arms around her, hoisted her a good two inches off the floor, and had a small cute fit.

"Aww, you're well small!"

Frances was still grinning like a maniac. So that _was_ how they greeted each other here…

Maybe this would work…

---

**Authors note: **Whoo, new reviewer, new fav and alert, thanks much for the feedback guys! (Grins and waves)

MAKE SOMEONE SMILE TODAY; GREET THEM THE MURDOC NICCALS WAY.

Review plz k thnx.

See you next time!


	5. 5 to 5

It was rare for all the Gorillaz to eat breakfast at the same time, in the same room. It was even rarer for them to eat breakfast without Murdoc bellowing at each of them in turn; instead he seemed to settle on just bullying 2D. Noodle and Russel ended up discussing the contents of hotdogs, whereas Frances merely sat at the end of the table, staring off into space. She would only speak when spoken to first, and even then would reply with a 'yes', 'no', or if they were lucky, a 'pardon?' Noodle was getting slightly frustrated and wolfed down the rest of her food, leaving a few stray beans to fend for themselves.

"Frances-san, why won't you talk properly?!"

"It is improper to speak at the table at which one eats breakfast or dinner." The pink haired woman countered swiftly, sounding like a talking textbook of etiquette.

"You don't have to be polite here, girl! Feel free to speak your mind!" Russel intervened, tapping his spoon on the table in a little beat. Frances stared blankly, blinking once, twice, then nothing.

"Well, I…I'm not quite sure what to say hotdogs." She mumbled awkwardly, watching the spoon. "I don't think I've ever tried one."

"WHAT?! Are you pullin' my leg?! First you only listen to classical- not that there is a problem with that, it is rather pleasant- but never eatin' a hotdog?! Girl, what the hell have your parents done to you?"

"Nothing really…" Frances raised her eyebrows slightly at Russel's sudden formal tone in the middle of his otherwise prominent accent- the 'rather pleasant' completely threw her. Murdoc, chewing violently on a sausage, with 2D cringing next to him, chuckled.

"Sounds like we have a cotton wool case on our hands…"

"Cotton wool?" Noodle stated questionably, brow furrowed with confusion at the expression. _Cotton wool case?! Who has one of those, wouldn't they be useless? _She thought to herself sceptically.

"Noodle love, it's an expression. For someone who was raised bein' oblivious to a lot of things…" The Satanist smirked slightly, finishing off the sausage brutally. "First she says she only listens to classical, then she doesn't bat an eyelid when I grab her melons-" Russel glared at him reproachfully for that term, "And now the poor sod hasn't ever tried a hotdog. I'd say we've got a right little rich bird in our nest." Murdoc licked his lips with that obscenely long tongue of his, eyes narrowed in a predatory fashion. There was a short, thoughtful silence as the other Gorillaz mulled over his summary. It sounded possible… Perhaps… Murdoc continued, playing with a cigarette between his long fingers.

"So, what do your parents do, love? That might shed light on a few things…"

"Well actually… I inherited quite a bit from my great Grandmother… We lived off that…" Frances mumbled, shifting in her seat, eyes flitting about nervously. "… Mother is a teacher, and Daddy is abroad…"

Noodle leaned forward to look at Frances, grinning.

"You inherited things? Then… Are you from a lineage, or something?! What's your last name, maybe I can find out where you came from that way!"

"… Hmm…" The dress-clad woman frowned slightly, smooth face creasing with the effort. "Well, which one do you want?"

"… What do you mean?"

"I have two last names."

"Two? … As in middle name, or-"

"No, I belong to two families." Frances stated. That's all it was, a statement. There was no affection behind it, no longing for said 'families', and the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. "You can have my official name or my original one."

"H… How about both?" Noodle smiled awkwardly.

"Alright. Well, it's Frances Heath, the name that my parents dubbed me with. The name that I prefer to go by, however, is Frances Khong. It's ugly, but strangely appealing, isn't it?" She finally smiled and nodded to herself, as if she were answering her own question. Murdoc was now gnawing on the end of his cigarette, strangely alert.

"And how exactly d'you spell that…"

"Spell it? Well, it's k-h-o-n-g… Not as in the monkey king kong, if you please…" As if awakening from a deep, stupefied slumber, 2D clanked into life like some sort of strange, drugged up machine.

"Khong?! That's, like… The name of tha' guy… The one who lived here ages ago, y'know, that one, y'know, Muds?"

"Yes I know you twit… Coincidence…" Murdoc snorted, lighting up. "Or perhaps it's just destiny." With that, he snorted with laughter, and Frances tilted her head to one side.

"A man named Khong lived here?"

"Yeah, back in the good old days, eh… That's why this place is called 'Kong Studios', love." Murdoc drawled, and a light bulb switched on above Frances' head.

"AH yes, I see!" As she reached this new revelation, she stood up, the chair behind her clattering to the floor, slamming her right fist into her left palm. "I can't believe they would take a prank this far! Always making fun of my name, those sewing dingbats… Ooo, I'll give them such a smack when I get back to London!!" Frances' anger was about as threatening as a fly attacking a pigeon with a pin-sized saucepan, and she charged out of the room in the fluffy pink slippers. None of the Gorillaz had the foggiest idea what exactly she meant or was planning, and soon hot dogs slipped into the conversation once more, accompanied by a sprinkling of zombie topics from 2D.

How the hell could someone manage to slip rotting carcases into every conversation…?!

---

Noodle tuned her guitar quietly, mouth moving as she plucked the strings, as if she herself were producing the noise from deep within her. Who knows, maybe she was… It was a standard ritual that required little concentration from her now, being the expert she was, but she still enjoyed giving it her full attention. With her eyes lightly closed, the Buddhist would seamlessly strum, catching onto every note, every sound. She had decided to take a moment to jam by herself before they started an recording, and was enjoying the unusual quiet of the instrument room, which was so usually full of life. It was slightly eerie with all the equipment surrounding her, left propped against walls or on shelves. It was eerie that they were left still, that they weren't being played. It didn't feel right, and Noodle couldn't shake off the feeling that she was being watched.

Opening her shadowed eyes slightly, the Japanese axe princess gazed around. Empty… Just like when she had first returned to the studios. Lonely. _Lonely… _Snapping her head up, she squirmed free of the strap around her shoulders and placed her guitar carefully back on its stand, taking a moment to examine it for scratches. After securing its safety, she stepped back and walked out of the empty room.

She hadn't seen Frances since breakfast; and was starting to feel strange, but not exactly worried. It was silly, really. She'd known the older woman for barely 24 hours, and already felt some sort of attachment. Perhaps it was the fact that she was a girl? Noodle had three men around her constantly; Russel, the friend to all, and an almost fatherly figure to Noodle, grumpy uncle Murdoc, and the thick but loveable brother, 2D.

Noodle had never had a sister, or a mother.

Even her mentor, Dr. Kyuzo, was a man. As much as Noodle loved them all, there was definitely something missing. She was getting extremely paranoid. _What if she left… She seems to have a clearer idea of what's going on, so maybe she did… _Noodle shamefully and mentally scolded herself for that. It was selfish, wanting her to stay, but the Japanese girl couldn't help herself.

… _I suppose it's alright for now._

Nodding briefly to herself, Noodle ran out briskly, smiling.

---

Frances stared blankly at the open package, sat down cross legged on the floor. Gnawing on a straw mindlessly, she flicked part of the polystyrene stuffing away from her bare foot sheepishly. She was feeling a mixture of anger, sadness, but mainly confusion. Delivered to Russel, once again, was a package. This one wasn't half as sinister as the one that arrived yesterday, however, and instead of a coffin, a large cardboard box appeared. It was full to the brim with strange, elaborate clothes, all holding the hint of quality as the dress that Frances was wearing herself. Apart from the mounds of clothes and the several pairs of platforms, there was a small black silk handbag. Inside the folds of the handbag was a flip top mobile phone with a dangly heart charm, and a compact. Apart from that, there was nothing.

Russel, confused by such an arrival, had found Frances wandering about aimlessly and questioned her whether any of it may sound familiar. Trundling back to his room, they had both examined the contents thoroughly, and much to Frances' dismay and delight, it was all hers. Nearly all that she had made, but only _nearly_. What the hell was going on?

"Girl, are these all things that you _made?!_"

"Made or designed."

"You got some talent, Frankie…"

Frances smiled despite herself. Despite Russel's somewhat intimidating appearance, he had a soothing voice and was undeniably friendly. Even though she was completely foreign to him, he didn't seem tense or offended by her presence at all, and that was a comfort.

"Are those… Diamante shoes?!?!"

"Yes. Made those for a girl who was starring in a 'Wizard of Oz' play."

"Man… Fancy…" The drummer muttered, fighting the urge to try them on, even though they would be many sizes too small. "Why the heck d'you think those people you know sent you all this stuff?"

"Well, my own clothes are in there too…" She ignored the incredulous 'you wear this sort of stuff everyday?!' and continued. "Which gives me the impression that this isn't a joke…" She had a terrible sinking feeling in her stomach, and Russel continued to examine the ruby red shoes.

"Well, that's yo' phone, ight? Why don't you try ringin' someone?"

"… I'm a bit nervous…" Frances grumbled, eyebrows set in a flat line across her forehead. She was fumbling with the pink piece of plastic in her right hand, turning it over and over. She had a feeling that she knew **exactly **what was going on. Why had they picked to send her here, into the care of Gorillaz, though?! Trying not to get ahead of herself, she attempted to remain positive. They wouldn't betray her. They wouldn't.

No way.

Maybe.

Probably.

… No.

Strapping on a pair of striped platforms from the box, she secured her red bonnet back on her head and smiled.

"Umm, Russel, may I please leave the-?"

"You can leave all the stuff in my room, a'ight?"

"Ah, thank you…"

"You want some privacy to talk?"

"GAH, no, I was thinking of finding Noodle…"

"Okay. Go on right ahead, you don't need permission." Russel grinned, chuckling when Frances curtseyed and dashed out.

At least now he could try out those shoes…

---

Frances hummed Beethoven symphony no. 5 to herself as the lift clattered downwards, still thumbing the mobile in her hand. She was going to put this off for as long as possible, if she could. It wouldn't hurt hearing a song beforehand, and she was undeniably excited. What on earth would the Gorillaz sound like? Getting lost in fantasies, she grinned sheepishly and stepped out, feeling someone stepping into her chest. She looked down abruptly, getting a face full of purple hair.

"Moodle?!"

"'RANCES-SAN!" Came the equally muffled reply, and both girls sprang away from each other, wearing similar giddy expressions. Grabbing each others hands, Frances leaned down more to the Japanese girl's level.

"I was just looking for you!" They chorused, blinking abstractly.

"You are coming to listen to the recording?!"

"Sure am!!"

"YAY!"

"YAY!" They bounced periodically, until Noodle began to run off back across the cluttered lobby, dragging Frances with her. With a yelp, the pink haired woman tumbling after her, teetering awkwardly on the two stripy towers strapped to her feet. After much tumbling and a small amount of giggling, they half fell, half staggered into the recording room.

A flustered 2D greeted them, sprawled across the floor, out of breath.

"NOODLE… Your monkey, like, stole my sunglasses…" He whined, curling up into a fetal position. Mike clapped from his place on top of the door, a very new, very stylish pair of pink shades over his eyes. Noodle huffed and placed her hands on her hips, pouting up at her primate. In response, the hatted fleabag 'ook'ed in horror and sprang out, tail between his legs in embarrassment at being caught up to his tricks by his owner. The axe princess then helped drag the tall singer to his feet, of whom was rubbing his head.

"Fanks Noodle…"

"You are most welcome. Now then, I'm glad you're here, you need to record your vocals!"

"Oh, yeah…"

Frances watched with slight amusement, swinging the mobile round in circles by holding onto the charm. Noodle sat down on a tall stool, fiddling with one of the strange, exuberantly large machines. Frances was wondering how the hell they were planning to make music with these monstrous things; if that was what they actually used. She sourly hoped that it wasn't. Suddenly, an ominous feeling of dread swept over her frilled frame, and she let out an estranged noise.

"2D-san, go get my acoustic guitar onegaishimasu." Noodle mumbled, flicking through a large stack of CDs.

"Oh, okay!" 2D frowned in confusion at her Japanese and raced out, returning two seconds later with a polished guitar, a large sticker of a cartoon skull on its front. He had become especially fast at obeying orders thanks to Murdoc, and passed the wooden instrument to the much more friendly guitarist happily. Noodle mumbled a 'thank you' and positioned herself with it, strumming slightly. Grinning, she looked up when the door behind Frances slammed open (The girl in question let out a yelp and dived out of the way, smacking into a bare wall) and Murdoc stormed in, flying V bass slung over his back. Much to the other band members surprise, both his top half and bottom half was covered. Looking from 2D to Noodle, then back, he snorted.

"… Noodle, I thought we were recording this crap separately…"

"No! Together, together!" The axe princess barked, brow furrowed. "It would be boring to watch otherwise!"

"Boring to watch?! This isn't a bloody show!" The bassist snorted, perching precariously on the edge of a computer chair. "Oi, faceache, give us the lighter."

"Okay!" 2D squeaked, not wishing to irritate Murdoc further, and flung his own pink lighter at him. Frances rubbed her nose, backing up from the wall, waving her other arm madly.

"OH NO NO! NO NO NO! NO SMOKING!" She screamed, pottering across and smacking the lighter out of Murdoc's hand, still rubbing her nose with the other. The green skinned man jumped slightly, apparently only just realising she was there, and his right eye twitched.

"WHAT THE HELL, WOMAN?!"

"SMOKING IS BAD FOR YOUR HEALTH!" Frances bellowed directly into his ear, blowing his hair to the side with the force. Noodle nodded her approval, and 2D gawped.

"I DON'T CARE!" Murdoc roared back.

"TO BE PERFECTLY HONEST MATE, I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOU EITHER, BUT YOU'LL MAKE EVERYTHING SMELL WORSE THAN IT ALREADY DOES! … No offence." She added hastily, waving a hand towards 2D and Noodle, of which both shrugged. Murdoc looked like a vein in his neck might burst, and folded his arms grimly, cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

"… Fucking bitch."

Frances didn't appear to hear him, and flopped down onto the floor, avoiding a few wires, as her legs disappeared beneath the layers of her skirt. She looked extremely out of place; especially when surrounded by all the technology. It was like an antique vase was being used to decorate a nuclear power plant. 2D gazed around for another seat frantically, avoiding Russel's chair, but eventually gave up and thumped down heavily on his bum next to Frances, using part of her skirt as a cushion. He grinned sheepishly.

"When's Russ comin'?"

"I was surprised he was not already here…"

"I think he's in his room." Frances chipped in, face devoid of expression. Noodle nodded.

"Alright, then I will go get hi-"

Before she could finish, the door burst open once more, revealing a very flustered Russel. Despite his dark skin, there was a definite blush in his cheeks, and for some reason, he had red glitter on his large hands.

Everyone silently agreed that it would be best not to say anything.

Sitting down heavily in his chair behind the drum kit, he hastily rubbed off the glitter onto the plastic arms, cooling down considerably.

"Sorry I'm a bit late…"

"That is fine, Russel-san. Do you want me to set it up?"

"If you would, Noodle." The drummer smiled and pulled out his sticks from beneath the chair, spinning them around in his thick fingers professionally. All at once, the lazy haze in the room seemed to lift as each of the four Gorillaz sprang into life. Noodle began moving microphones, turning knobs, adjusting volume, all whilst clinging onto the neck of her guitar. 2D shot to his feet, nearly toppling straight over in a perfect 180 degree arc, and clung onto to a microphone stand for support. Extending to his full height, the singer cleared his throat and waited patiently. Murdoc remained seated, but shifted his one leg onto one particularly expensive looking piece of equipment, resting a booted foot upon it. Moving his bass around, he poised his fingers at the ready, smirking as he plugged it into a large amp. Russel was still, but extremely alert. After finishing the preparations, Noodle bounced back onto her seat, legs swinging back and forth.

"Anybody need music sheets, or are we all okay?"

"Fine."

"As if I would need a music sheet…"

"When you're ready, baby girl."

Noodle smiled in anticipation and rubbed her hands together with childish glee. _Excellent…_

---

**Authors Note: **This chapter was an a-hole to write. And it's longer than the others, YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY.

Behold, a look into the Japanese girl's psyche! Seriously though, she doesn't know many other girls does she? Poor thing. XD

Noodle sounds like Mr. Burns at the end… lol.

Blargh, it'll do I suppose. 124 hits, YAY. 8 reviews, and only one for the last chapter?! YOU TERRIBLE PEOPLE. REVIEW MORE PLZ K THX OR I WILL STOP WRITING.

Well, not really, but they make me happy. XD

Until the next update (Waves handkerchief)


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